


Three Identical Strangers

by Ophelia_of_the_Woods



Series: The Doctor Who Au [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Doctor Who Fusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26492665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_of_the_Woods/pseuds/Ophelia_of_the_Woods
Summary: 24 hours ago, George Ashworth lived a completely normal life, with completely normal people, and a completely normal job.24 hours later, he was running for his life beside a man he had met mere hours prior from an otherworldly monster.Suffice to say, this was the start of something new and wonderful. And hair-pulling annoying.-Or, the Doctor Who AU someone was bound to write
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound & Wilbur Spot
Series: The Doctor Who Au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986658
Comments: 26
Kudos: 70





	1. The Doctor Who AU

On Tuesday the 22 of October 2015, at precisely, 6:30, George Ashworth would be awoken to the sound of his alarm clock ringing. It was a shrill sound, echoing across the room at such volume that no one who heard it could remain asleep for long. With a groan, George slammed his hand on the snooze button and began the tedious process of getting ready for the day. 

Walking over to his closet, he pulled the door open and grabbed blindly around for articles of clothing. He dressed himself in a blue short-sleeve t-shirt with a button-up underneath, along with dark blue pants, before putting on his sneakers. Grabbing his bag, he exited his room and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Gesturing blindly, he turned on the lights, hissing slightly at its brightness, before pulling down a box of cereal from the kitchen cabinets.

As he ate, George pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his Instagram page. When nothing significant happened, he continued to his messages. As per usual, not a single notification. Finishing his meal, George put what remained of the cereal back in its cabinet, before grabbing his housekeys and umbrella, before heading out the door. 

The walk to the bus station was no more than 5 minutes, but the pouring rain did speed up his pace. After crossing the light at Saxon and Ludwig, George continued heading straight, before being halted by a man in a tweed coat and a yellow jumper beneath. 

”Like so,” the stranger said, as he loosened the bowtie and slipped it over his head. George remained frozen as the man smiled down at him before the man stepped aside and continued towards Saxon. 

That was weird, George thought to himself as he turned to stare at the man behind him, before continuing towards the bus. The bus station provided a temporary protection from the rain, and within 6 minutes, the bus arrived. George headed to the front, scanning his card, before moving toward the middle, sitting beside a man in a dark overcoat and turned down hat. 

For the next few minutes, George remained in his seat, staring at his phone. While he was initially fine, things began to change after the bus arrived at its third stop, and two men, both dressed in a black overcoat and turned down hats got on and sat directly in front of and to the right of him. As the bus began driving again, George became uncomfortably aware of eyes watching over him. Glancing up from his phone, George stared at the man in front of him. The man raised his gaze to meet Georges, grinning slightly, before asking, ”Need something handsome?”

George was taken aback and quietly murmured, "No, I'm good," before looking down at his phone once more. The feeling of being looked at remained. 

Another few minutes passed, and the feeling continued to increase in intensity. As discreetly as possible, George chanced a glance at the man sitting to his left. While he hadn't gotten a good look at the man next to him when he initially sat down, George could now see under the turned-down hat. The man had the exact same face, the exact same outfit, and the exact same uncomfortable grin as the man sitting in front of him.

”Need something handsome?” The man on his left asked suddenly, turning his hand abruptly to George, causing the man to flinch. With a nervous laugh, George turned his head to the right, before noting that like the previous man, the man beside him had the same face. Breathing in, George apologized, saying he'd been looking at something else. Looking around the bus, he noted to his dismay that he and the three men were the only individuals still aboard. 

Mentally, he began counting down the minutes until the next stop. While his normal drop off was three stops away, he decided that for his own safety, he'd take a delay in his usual trip. 

As the bus came to a stop, George held his breath and sat up. To his chagrin, the three men surrounding him stood up sharply.

”Leaving so soon?” The man in front of him asked, still wearing that unnerving grin. 

”Yeah, this is my stop.” George responded, attempting to mask the hesitancy in his voice.

”That’s not true,” the man to his left replied, turning to stand next to the man before George. ” You're stop is at Derbyshire, not Mellvoir.”

George felt his stomach drop. ”Yes,” the man to his right chimed in, ”You need to stay on the bus. You wouldn´t want to be late to class.”

”I don't know what you guys are talking about,” George exclaimed, raising his voice in an attempt to catch the driver’s attention, ”But this is my stop, so could you please get out of my way?” He attempted to walk past the men, but they blocked his path. 

”There's no reason to be upset love,” the man in the middle replied, ”We just think you’re a bit turned around. Why don’t you just return to your seat.”

As the panic began to fill his body, George attempted once more to pass the men, but they continued to block him in. ”Please get out of my way,” he repeated. The men continued to look at him, like a wolf sizing up prey, slowly moving toward the man. “Please get away from me!” He exclaimed in a panic, almost yelling. 

“What’s going on back there?” A voice from the back yelled. The four turned around to see the bus driver staring at them from behind his seat.

“These men are blocking me from my exit,” George exclaimed quickly, tripping over his words slightly. The men attempted to protest, but the bus driver prevented them from doing so.

“I don’t know what you four are doing, but I do know that the man in blue is clearly trying to leave. For your sakes, I suggest you let him do so unless you want me to call my superiors and have you barred from this bus line.” The three men turned to face George once more, the grin wiped from their faces, before stepping aside, allowing him to pass. With a sigh of relief, George thanked the bus driver for his intervention, before stepping off the bus into the rain. As the doors behind him closed, George turned back to look at it. 

The three men were standing in the window, glaring down at him. The bus then set off again, leaving George alone once more. 

One question remained. Why did these guys know so much about me?


	2. Familiar Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident on the bus, George finds himself looking forward to a normal day of class.  
> Of course, he couldn't even have that, as is brought face to face with a stranger from this morning

On Tuesday the 22, October 2015, at precisely 7:20, George Ashworth stepped off of his second bus and onto the campus Leighton and Marks University. Leighton and Marks University was an old Victorian-era factory that had been converted into a school at the turn of the 19th century. It housed vast lawns and a willow-lined lake that surrounded the school. Old sand-colored bricks rose over three stories into the air, making the building appear almost castle-like. Suffice to say, it left a strong first impression. 

George passed the long grass lawns and made his way towards the entrance. Once inside, he closed his umbrella and headed towards Jones Hall for his Computer Science class. Reaching the door, he turned the doorknob and entered the room.

The hall was small, allowing for approximately 60 occupants at a time. Seeing as class wouldn’t start for another 10 minutes, the room was empty, save for a few students sitting in the back, and a man sitting at the desk by the front wall, where projections would appear. George made his way to the front row, taking his usual seat in the middle. He reached down to pull out his notebook, before taking note of the man at the desk.

While he had initially assumed the man at the desk to be his professor, it was with a second glance that George noted an unusual change. The man was dressed in a tweed jacket and yellow jumper, with a bowtie sat snug around his neck. 

It was the man from the street. 

That’s impossible, George thought to himself, he was heading toward Saxon, there’s no way he could’ve gotten here before me. Standing up, he made his way towards the man.

“Hi,” he said. The man looked up at him in confusion.

“Hello,” the man responded, slightly confused, “Do I know you?”

“Yes,” George replied. “We met earlier today, by Saxon and Ludwig.”

“I don’t recall,” the man replied, looking him up and down. “Perhaps you have the wrong man. I haven’t been anywhere near that part of town for the last few days.”

George was puzzled. “But I know it was you,” he responded, voice rising slightly, “You took off your bowtie and said ‘like so,’ before leaving.” The man stared up at him blankly.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

George stared at the man, before letting out a sigh. “I suppose I should apologize then.”

“Oh no, its no problem,” the man replied, a bounce in his voice, “People constantly see me and think I’m someone they recognize. I’ve just got one of those faces.”

“Yeah,” George muttered, before returning to his seat. By now, more people had filed into class, and George spent the next few minutes staring at his phone. 

+++

Never had a class felt so long in his life. The man at the desk, or Doctor Soot, Wilbur for short, as he had introduced himself, behaved in an extremely odd manner. When the class began, he informed the room that the usual professor, Mr. Tennent, had won the local lottery, and was taking a trip with his wife to Barcelona, leaving Wilbur as the replacement for the next few days. 

George wondered to himself how qualified Wilbur was to teach such a class, as, within five minutes of the prepared presentation, he had turned off the projector and begun taking questions on the intricacies of a central processing unit. It was clear to George that Wilbur was a man of great intellect, but lacked the teaching skills to effectively communicate this information to the students. Indeed, many of his classmates had begun to either work on other classwork or take a nap.

It wasn’t just Wilbur's odd methods of teaching that caught George’s eye; rather, it was the way the substitute seemed to be keeping tabs on him. Repeatedly, Wilbur threw out a question to the class before immediately asking George for the answer. The repeated questioning reminded George of an interview; as if he was being tested. For what though, he did not know. 

As the bell rang signifying class had ended, George packed up his bag, before hesitating. He stared at Wilbur, as the man bent down and began fiddling with his bag as if he were looking for something. Standing up, he placed what appeared to be a silver stick into the inside of his jacket pocket, before looking around the room. Looking down, George placed the last of his items into his bag, before standing up and leaving. Once more, he felt the sensation of being watched, but when he turned to look at Wilbur, the man was sat at the desk, reading from a book. 

George made his way towards his next class, Business Connections, passing the sprawling lawns and the bus stop from which he came an hour and a half prior. Glancing up at the street, George spotted 3 figures dressed in black standing next to one another. A dark grin spread across their faces.

“Oh shit,” George whispered to himself. It was the men from the bus.

A crow’s caw was heard overhead as the bustling campus grew silent. Turning around, George sprinted towards the now empty school, slamming himself against the front door. The three men were behind him, moving in perfect harmony.

A voice within his head whispered. With a groan, George pushed through the door, slamming it shut behind him. He turned and looked down the long hallway. The students that had lined it minutes prior were gone, with the walls seeming to whine and stretch. 

Looking back, George saw the men, who had pressed their unnaturally grinned faces against the window. Their faces were extended, growing longer as rounded teeth began to grow more narrow and poignant. Not wishing to stay any longer, George turned around and sprinted down the corridor towards the nearest classroom

As he nearly ran into the door, George began frantically pulling at the doorknob in the hopes of getting it to open. When it refused, George attempted another and another. "No, no, no, no," he muttered to himself as the door failed to open once more. From behind him, George heard the shatter of glass and the sound of a door opening. It took all his power not to shriek at the sound of the men entering the building

The voice in his head repeated again, more loudly than before. George ignored it and continued trying his luck with the other doors. It seemed to him as if he had made little progress, the hall continued to stretch on. The figures were coming closer at an extremely fast rate. 

“Please, please, please,” George exclaimed, pulling desperately at the door. Glancing over his shoulder, George spotted the men. They were less than 5 feet away, their long teeth bared and claw-like hands reaching. With a scream, George threw himself against the door as it opened, causing him to fall face first onto the floor. Scrambling up, George slammed the door and blocked it with his body. He grabbed blindly at the lock, and when he found it, bolted the door shut. He heard what sounded like nails on a chalkboard, as one of the monsters traced their long claws against the small window, the manic grin never leaving its face.

The noise stopped, and from the window, George watched the grin fade back to its original shape, and the monster behind the door vanished from sight. George panted heavily, before letting out a sigh of relief. 

The sound of a book slamming shut caused George to jump into the air with a shriek. Turning around, George spotted a familiar figure in yellow sitting behind a desk.

“What,” Wilbur asked, “was that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George really can't catch a break now can he?  
> Thanks for sticking around so far, I'm glad people are interested in this.  
> Like last time, please roast me if you see a typo


	3. Discouraging News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George attempts to rationalize the mornings events,  
> Of course, the universe is incredibly cruel, and can't even give him that.

On Tuesday the 22, October 2015, at precisely 9:05, George Ashworth stared in disbelief at the man in tweed. Wilbur placed the book in his hands down onto the desk, stood up, and walked over to him. “Are you alright?” He asked in a concerned tone. 

George stared up at him incredulously. “Am I alright?” He exclaimed, “Am I alright?! There are three, things, outside that door that just tried to murder me! How do you think I feel?” 

The man stared at him in confusion, glancing out the small window on the door. “George, I think you might be mistaken.” George let out a massive sigh and leaned against the nearest desk. “There’s nothing outside.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing outside? Those men, the guys with the claws, they’re outside that door right now. Did you not hear the sound of their nails against the glass? You had to have heard that!” Wilbur remained stagnant.

“George, I have no idea what you are talking about. Are you sure what you say you saw actually happened?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure!” George exclaimed, almost screaming. “You saw it, you saw those things! I mean, how could you not! And the hallway, you must’ve seen the hallway, right?! A hallway is not supposed to look like that” He exclaimed frantically.

“What do you mean by somethings wrong with the hallway?” Wilbur spoke cooly, walking to stand in front of George. George looked up at the man, who was at least half a foot taller than him, before speaking in a rushed manner.

“The hallway, I don’t know what happened. It’s just, one minute everything was fine, and then I heard what I think was a crow, and then everybody was gone.”

“George, please, you’re getting off-topic,” Wilbur replied, leaning down to place his hands on George’s shoulders, “What happened to the hallway?”

“It was, I don’t know, stretched? Like, it seemed to go on forever. There were more classrooms than usual, but none of the doors would open. I kept trying over and over again, but none of them would open.” George replied hurriedly, gesticulating to himself and the door. “Except for yours.”

Wilburs face went blank, and he let go of George’s shoulders. “I think,” he began, “You are imagining things.” He walked over to the door. “Nothing is going on, see.” He placed his hand on the door and unlocked it. 

“Don’t!” George screamed, but Wilbur ignored him and pulled the door open. George backed away in fright, expecting the monsters to lunge at him, but all he was met with was the sound of students speaking amongst themselves. With hesitancy, George walked over to where Wilbur held the door open and peered out of it. Everything had returned back to what it was; the hallway was back to its original shape, and the echoing silence that had revealed his every movement had been replaced with the gentle lull of chatter from students walking down the hall. 

“George,” Wilbur said quietly, “Nothing has happened. Whatever you think you saw was not real.” Wilbur reached out and placed a hand to George’s forehead, before hissing slightly as he pulled it away. “Just what I thought, you have a fever, a strong one at that.”

“What?” George exclaimed, placing a hand against his forehead. “That’s not possible, I don’t get sick easily.”

“Have you done anything that might cause you to catch a bug?”

“No,” He replied quickly, before hesitating slightly, “I mean, I do have to walk in the rain on my way to the bus.”

“Well there we have it, boys,” Wilbur exclaimed. “The common cold. A nasty old thing.” He placed his arm around George’s shoulder and ushered him through the door. “Now, as someone who has your best interest at heart, I think you should head back home and lay down for a bit. I know that you probably don’t want to hear this, but if you’ve begun to hallucinate.”

“Hallucinate?” George interrupted. “Sir, that was no hallucination. That was real, and it was trying to kill me. They’ve been following me all day. Please, you’ve got to believe me?”

Wilbur stared at him with a blank expression, and George felt himself wither below his gaze. “It’s a clear sign that you need to lay down,” Wilbur began, “And eat a nice bowl of chicken soup. Preferably homemade. Helps with the enzymes.” He said, winking down at the shorter. 

George made a move to protest, but Wilbur quickly shut him down. “Ah, ah, ah, listen to me, this is for the best. We don’t want you to get any worse.” With a sigh, George relented and began making his way down the hall, before stopping.

“Wilbur,” He called, turning around to face the man. Wilbur, who was standing in the doorway, looked up at him in acknowledgment, “How did you know my name?”

The man stared at him blankly. “Class syllabus.” He replied curtly, before heading back into the room and slamming the door shut behind him. George remained still for a moment, before continuing towards the main exit. Pulling open his umbrella, he made his way down the sidewalk before stopping at the bus station. He considered getting on the bus but remembering what had happened hours prior, elected to take the long walk home instead. 

The feeling of being watched remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this chapters a shorter one, but the next few chapters will be longer.  
> Also expect to see some familiar faces next chapter (but I mean, they're tagged in this fic so its not much of a surprise )  
> I'm glad you guys have liked this story so far.  
> Once again, roast me if you see a typo.


	4. Items out of Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George picks up Tommy and Tubbo from class.

On Tuesday the 22, October 2015, at precisely 2:44 pm, George Ashworth sat outside Classroom 48 of Deffray Vale School, waiting for the bell signaling the end of class to ring. He was joined by a group of mothers, all here to pick up their children. Joining him on the bench was a woman he recognized as the president of the PTA. As per usual, she was making some inane remark about the state of the school and what improvements she would make if she were the principal, and as per usual, George was ignoring her ranting. 

As the bell rang, George stood up and began searching through the swaths of students flooding from the classrooms in an attempt to find the kid he was babysitting. Glancing over the crowd for a few moments, he soon spotted the familiar blonde curls and signature red shirt of Tommy Anderson, his charge, and began making his way over to the 10-year-old.  
Tommy Anderson was, for lack of a better word, a problem-child. While many children his age would attempt to hide their harsh comments and foul language, Tommy gleefully spouted them out at any given moment. Many times this year, he had been sent to the principal's office due to his habit of threatening other children. While Tommy was difficult to deal with, George knew that at heart, he was a caring individual, fiercely loyal to his friends. 

“Hello Tommy, “ he exclaimed. 

Tommy barely looked up at him but muttered ‘Hi Gogy’ in response. George turned to greet the boy next to him, who he recognized to be Toby Smith, or Tubbo, as he preferred to be called. Tubbo was Tommy’s best friend, and the two were such vastly different personalities that George sometimes found himself wondering how they’d even entered such a friendship. Tubbo was extremely polite, and would often speak about his new obsessions in great detail. Despite his nice appearance, Tubbo was just as mischievous as his friend, and would often accompany Tommy when he was sent to the principal's office. They formed a chaotic, but well-meaning duo

Because Tommy and Tubbo were so close, the Anderson family would often allow Tubbo to stay at their house during the day, as Tubbos parents worked late. The Smith family had initially asked George if he wanted compensation for taking care of their son so often, but he refused, stating that he enjoyed Tubbos company and the effect he had on his charge. 

The three made their way toward the exit and made the ten-minute trek back to Tommy’s house. By this point, the rain had momentarily cleared up, and George tucked his umbrella back into his bag. 

“Anything exciting happen at school today?” George asked. The two stopped for a moment to ponder, but while Tommy mentioned an experiment they performed in science briefly, Tubbo went into great detail discussing how they’d combined different types of liquid with plants to study their results. In the words of Tubbo, it was ‘weird, but fun.’

As the group reached Tommy’s house, George placed down his bag and began rummaging around in it in an attempt to find his house key, when he heard what sounded like someone calling his name. Glancing up, he looked around the street in search of the caller, but there was no one on the road or sidewalk. Remembering the strange events from that morning, George turned his investigation towards finding anything out of the ordinary. As he turned his head, he spotted a sight he had never seen before. It appeared to be an old blue police box. 

“Hey, Tommy?” George asked. The younger looked up at him, abandoning his conversation with the other boy. “Has that blue box always been there?” Tommy scanned the road for anything out of place, eyes landing on the same box.  
“That’s weird,” Tommy responded, scrunching his face, “It wasn’t there this morning. Well, I don’t remember it being there? Tubbo,” he exclaimed, turning to face his friend, who made a noise acknowledging his question. “Did you see that box there this morning?”

“Uh… nope,” Tubbo exclaimed, making the ending p pop. “Can’t say I have.”

“It's probably modern art.” Tommy cut in, “You know, like that Banksy fellow.”

“Then why would Banksy be in Brighton?” Tubbo asked. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never met the bloke!” Tommy exclaimed. “George,” He called, snapping George out of his trance, “Open up the door, I’m starving.” With a sigh, George reached back into his bag and pulled the key out of the front pocket. He placed it into the lock, and with a click, opened the door. The boys ran into the house, and as he heard the sounds of backpacks landing on the floor, he turned back to look at the box. 

With everything else that had happened today, it didn’t come to as much of a surprise to him that upon a second glance, the box had vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again.  
> Yes, I know its another short chapter, but trust me, its way longer than it previously was.  
> Initially, I had considered posting two chapters tonight, but I got distracted by drawing memes for this series and planning out story threads with @dtvibez on tumblr, so that idea flew out the window.  
> If you guys want to see those, feel free to let me know  
> But hey, its Tubbo and Tommy.  
> You will be seeing more of them and yes, that is a threat  
> As per the norm, roast me if you find a typo.


	5. Time at Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George spends his afternoon taking care of Tommy and Tubbo  
> Its raining a suspiciously high amount.

On Tuesday the 22, October 2015, at precisely 5:40 pm, George Ashworth was seated at the kitchen table in the Anderson household, helping Tommy and Tubbo complete their math homework. It was proving to be a difficult task. While Tubbo was polite enough to at least make an effort to try and understand what George was saying, Tommy was flat out ignoring him and repeatedly calling him a ‘son of a bitch’ for attempting to help him. George had to wonder where the child had learned such foul language. 

As George attempted to explain to Tommy that fractions needed to be cross multiplied in order to divide them, the sound of his phone going off echoed across the room. Pausing from his instruction, George reached into his bag and pulled the phone out, before checking his messages.

From Mrs. Smith: Is Tubbo with you?

Sensing her concern, George sent a text notifying her of her son's location.

From Mrs. Smith: Great, we wanted to let you know that we will be coming home later tonight. There's been some business at work that requires me and James to stay long, so we talked with Tommy's parents, and they’ve agreed to have Tubbo stay the night.

To Mrs. Smith: I’ll let Tubbo know right away. 

From Mrs. Smith: That’ll do. Thank you again. Please make sure Tubbo and Tommy get to bed on time, as they’ve got school tomorrow

To Mrs. Smith: Won’t be a problem. Have a nice evening

Placing his phone down, George turned back to the children in front of him, who in the 30 seconds he’d been on the phone had begun arguing over custody of a dinosaur-shaped eraser belonging to Tubbo, “Tommy, knock it off, give Tubbo his eraser back.” He turned to the other boy, “Tubbo, your mother just texted me, you’re going to be staying with Tommy overnight.”

Tubbos face lit up with excitement. ”Really? Yes!” He cheered

“Oh great,” Tommy moaned, crossing his arms, “Now I get to spend more time with him.”

“Tommy, be nice. Besides, both Tubbo and I know that deep down, you love him.” George watched with a smile as Tommy's face morphed into one of disgust, and he pretended to hurl. Tubbo giggled quietly to himself. “Now, where were we?”

+++

As the sounds of an action scene blared from the TV in the living room, George took note of the time. It was well past 9:30, a cause for concern, as it was an hour after Tommy's parents typically arrived home. George had sent several texts to Mrs. Anderson throughout the day asking where she and her husband were, but he had yet to receive a response. Glancing over, he turned his phone on and swiped over the notifications. No new messages had arrived from the Andersons or the Smiths. 

In his attempts to keep the boys entertained and distracted from the sudden deviation in their usual routine, he had allowed them to put on a movie and have a bowl of ice cream after finishing their dinner. This seemed to have worked, as at the moment, the two kids were laughing at some quip Iron Man made as he flew over the city. George was in the kitchen cleaning the pile of dishes that had been left in the sink overnight. Outside, the rain had begun again, and George noted how quickly the gray storm clouds had become pitch black; how quickly the rain had increased its volume, muffling any noise coming from beyond the borders of the house. 

The sudden crack of lightning followed by the sound of thunder directly overhead caused both George and the boys to jump. Hearing the low whispers coming from the living room, George called out to them. “It's just a rainstorm, it's nothing to worry about.” Of course, his words offered little solace, as another roar of thunder, much louder than before, echoed across the house, seemingly right on top of them.   
Tubbo and Tommy let out a small squeak, and George placed down his phone, hurrying over to the two and attempted to calm them down. “Hey, hey,” George exclaimed, hunching down between them and placing a reassuring hand on their backs, “Everythings going to be fine, alright. It's just some thunder and lightning, it can’t hurt you.”

“What if you get electrocuted?” Tommy bit back, a clear fear in his voice evident as he tripped over his words. Tubbos eyes were wide, and were scanning the room wildly

George paused for a moment. “Okay, so maybe lightning can hurt you.” Looking at the boys’ faces he continued, “But not like that. We’re safe in here. That stuff can’t hurt you here. Trust me” The two boys looked at each other, lips quivering, before nodding, turning back to the film. 

George remained silent between the two, rubbing circles into the smalls of their back to calm them down. The tension in the room began to dissipate slowly, and through the reflection of the TV upon their faces, George could tell they were beginning to feel at ease. 

The three continued to watch the movie for the next few minutes in silence, with Tubbo occasionally laughing at some of the jokes and Tommy trying his best not to crack a smile. As the film came to an end, George stood up and removed the disc from the DVD player. “Is there another movie you want to watch?” When both boys shrugged, George reached inside the movie cabinet and randomly picked a disc and put it in. As he turned to return to his spot between the boys, he looked out the window. The rain that had been so deafening had now grown silent, and it appeared as if the thunder and lightning had ceased. 

Moments later, George's world was thrown into complete disarray as the room was momentarily blinded by lightning crashing into the house before the entire house experienced a blackout. The boys screamed, and George attempted to calm them down once more, stopping when he spotted something outside. 

With its hands resting against the glass, one of the grinning monsters from earlier leered down at him. It ran its longer fingers down the glass, like nails on a chalkboard. 

Then the glass shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, its about to go down.   
> I bet George really wishes he had taken some self defense classes now.   
> Anyway, you know the game, roast me if you see a typo.


	6. Shattered Glass in the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George, Tommy and Tubbo fight for their lives.

On Tuesday the 22, October 2015, at precisely 10:47 pm, George Ashworth watched with horror as a gaunt figure slammed its head through the living room window of the Anderson residence, causing a sea of broken glass to fall to the floor. Instinctively, George moved in front of Tommy and Tubbo, who had begun shrieking with terror at the sight before them. 

As the monster began to walk towards them, George reached behind him to grab the two boys by the hands and began leading them backward, towards the kitchen. “Tommy, Tommy,” he exclaimed, attempting to gain the olders attention, “Listen to me, Tommy!” While Tubbo continued to scream, Tommy focused on the man in front of him. “I need you to take Tubbo to the back door and get out.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “No, no, no, I can’t!” He exclaimed, squeezing George's hand as tightly as he could. Turning back to face the clawed-figure, George stepped to his left and grabbed the tall lamp from beside the table, angling it in front of him like a shield.

“Tommy, I don’t need you disagreeing with me right now,” George exclaimed, still pushing the two boys back. They had reached the kitchen by now. “Just get out of here!” He turned back to look at the boys, who were looking up at him, eyes glittering in their eyes. “Please!” 

Nodding, Tommy grabbed Tubbo's hand and began pulling him towards the door leading to the backyard. “Wait, stop!” Tubbo yelled, attempting to fight against his friend. “What about George?!” Tommy turned to look back at his babysitter, who was preoccupied, swinging the lamp at the monster wildly. 

“George can handle that thing!” He exclaimed, tugging on his friend's arm. The two ran through the dining room, turning at the left to the door. It was blocked by the blinds, and Tommy quickly moved to yank them away. As he turned to open the door, he heard Tubbos scream of terror. Looking up, he saw two figures pressed against it, long clawed-hands running down the glass. The flash of lightning illuminated their faces. 

Despite its humanoid appearance, the monsters before them had transcended all rationale. Their hunched shoulders reveal a set of spikes running down their backs. They had a triangular-like head, flat faces, save for a grin that seemed to have been ripped open from the slits of the mouths. The black overcoats had morphed into their skin, transforming into bat-like wings with long claws extending from shriveled hands

With a shriek, the two ran away from the door, back to the main loft.

+++

In the living room, George silently thanked his high school theatre for the lesson in stage combat as he swung the lamp at the monster. While the first blows missed, the third one struck the creature over the head, allowing George enough time to prepare for an overhead strike.

To his disbelief, the monster grabbed hold of the lamp, locking him and George into a stalemate, both trying to overpower the other. It quickly became quite apparent that George was on the losing side of this battle, as the monster began forcing him to the ground with inhuman levels of strength. The monster opened its massive mouth as if it were planning to behead him. 

George heard a shriek come from the main loft, followed by the sound of glass shattering. “Tommy!” He screamed, turning to look behind him. “Tommy, what's going on?”

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, the monster lunged its head forward in an attempt to bite George. While he was able to move away in time to avoid the bite, the beast's sharp teeth ran against the side of his face, leaving a myriad of scratches. He moaned in pain as blood began to trickle down the left side of his face, covering his left eye, and rendering it difficult to see through it. 

George grimaced and felt his grip on the lamp begin to slip. The monster reared back its head, opening its wide mouth, revealing rows and rows of teeth. 

Then, with a squelch, a stick ruptured through the back of the monster's mouth and jutted upwards into its skull, before being pulled out. The monster let out a gurgled screech, before falling to the side. Looking up, George spotted Tommy holding what appeared to be the fireplace poker, with Tubbo standing just behind him. The two looked a mix of dumbfounded and terrified, caked in what George assumed to be black blood of the beast.

“What are you still doing here?!” George exclaimed, rising from the floor. “I told you to run!” 

“We couldn’t leave you!” Tommy began but was interrupted by Tubbo.

“There were more of those things! They were in front of the door and we couldn’t get out!”

“Shit," George swore under his breath. The sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway. George glanced around in a panic, trying to think of something to do. “Hand it here,” he exclaimed, gesturing at the poker. 

At that moment, a weird sound began to blare. Looking for the source of the noise, George turned to face the broken windows, from where the first monster made its entrance. Across the street from the Anderson residence, they spotted what appeared to be a blue box fading in and out from existence. As it seemed to stabilize, the door swung open, and a man ran out

“George!” The man called. Squinting, George peered at the man; the pouring rain muffling his voice and made his appearance hard to ascertain. “George!” He called again, gesturing to the box. “You have to run!”

With a gasp, realization struck. It was Wilbur. Behind him, the monsters let out another hideous screech, and George turned to face the beasts once more. “Right,” he exclaimed, taking the poker from Tommy's hands and angling himself in front of them. “See that man over there?” He asked the boys. They turned to look behind them and nodded. “When I say go, I need you to get through the window and run to him. Got it?!”

“No, “Tubbo exclaimed, “We’re not leaving you!” The monsters continued to move forward, spreading their wings

“Tubbo, this is an order! Three!”

“No, we can’t!”

“Two!”

“Tubbo, listen to him!

“One!”

“Tommy, we can’t!”

“GO!” 

Tommy grabbed Tubbo's hand and yanked him towards the window. The glass bit into the soles of their feet, but they ignored it, stepping through the glass ledge and tumbling onto the bushes below. Turning back, they heard the sound of metal smashing into flesh, followed by a screech. They scrambled backwards. 

“Hey!” A voice called. Turning, they spotted a man in yellow running towards them. “Get up!” The man reached down and dragged them into a standing position. “I need you to listen to me and don’t fight!” He lifted the boys into his arms “I’m going to take you into that blue box, do you understand me?”

“No,” Tubbo screamed, beginning to fight against the stranger's grasp. “We can’t leave George!” The stranger ignored him and began running back to the box.

“I’m sorry.” He yelled over the deafening rain. While Tubbo continued to fight against the grip of the man, Tommy remained static, watching as his house became smaller. The man reached the box, opened the door, and placed the kids inside. “Please, don’t touch anything!” With that, he slammed the door shut. Tubbo immediately began pulling against the doorknob, but it remained locked. 

"Tommy, help me!” He exclaimed. Tommy was awoken from his trance and began assisting his friend. After several seconds, it dawned on them. They weren’t getting this door open. The two breathed heavily, before stepping back, expecting to feel a wall. 

To their surprise, they felt nothing but air. They turned around.

+++

As the boys scrambled out of the window, George turned back to face the monster in front of him. They seemed to have noticed the death of their brother, as with another screech, they lunged at him. George swung the poker like a baseball bat, knocking the monsters into one another. The poker was covered in blood, and estimating from the noise the monster on the right emitted, he had done some damage. Stumbling backwards, George braced himself for impact as the uninjured beast lunged forward. He leapt to the left, and the monster embedded its clawed hand into the ground with a groan. Acting quickly, George began repeatedly smashing the poker into the beasts head, blood spurting all over his body. It emitted a horrifying squelching noise. 

Glancing over his shoulder, George watched as Tubbo and Tommy were being taken away by Wilbur. He let out a sigh of relief, content knowing that they would be safe. But his momentary calm was halted, when the third beast stood up and readied itself to attack. Sensing the end of the road, George threw himself back against the glass, causing the undamaged window to shatter as he fell through it. He landed on his back and felt glass rain onto his face, making it more difficult to see than it already was. 

The beast followed shortly thereafter, and George barely had enough time to hold up the poker, preventing it from landing directly on top of him. Drool from his stretched lips landed on his face, and it let out what George assumed to be a laugh; one of a predator toying with his prey. Suddenly, the monster lifted one of his hands up and thrust its long claws into his stomach. George let out a scream as pain erupted all over his body. He felt his strength begin to fail once more, being overpowered by the pain from his torso and back. Above him, the creature opened its mouth even further, exposing all its teeth, as if preparing to make the final blow. Powerless to stop him, George braced himself for the sweet release of death.

Such a moment never came. Instead, a sharp ringing noise came from further ahead. The monster seemed heavily affected by the sound, as it quickly moved away from George in an attempt to protect itself from the ear-piercing pitch. George attempted to cover his ears, but the pain made every movement feel like agony. He stared blankly as the beast began shifting in and out of human form, before spreading its wings and lifting off. 

As the rain continued to pour, George stared blankly at the sky. Ever so slightly, he could see the moon shining through the clouds, It looks nice he thought to himself. His mind began to fog over, and distantly, he thought he heard a voice calling out to him. He ignored it, as the pain began to subside.

Is this what dying feels like? He thought to himself. It almost feels pleasant.

Pain shot like stars across his eyes as he felt himself being lifted up by someone. They were talking to him in a muffled voice, but George ignored them. I want to go back to that numbness

Whoever was carrying him ran in an odd manner, jostling George from his trance. He stared blankly up at the man carrying him. He looked familiar, but George couldn’t quite put a name to his face. Turning his head, George spotted the blue box from earlier that afternoon, which appeared as if it were glowing. The man was speaking to him once more, but all George could think about how funny the box looked; how small it was. 

The man let out a shout, and the door opened. George wondered how the two of them would fit into so small a building. He attempted to voice his concerns, but his tongue felt heavy. Black spots began to fill his vision, and he heard what sounded like children yelling as they entered the box. The world became a lighter shade of blue, filled with circles. He felt himself being laid against a railing, heard a voice telling him something.

“We’re not going to let you die here.”

The box was bigger on the inside.

Then the darkness engulfed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a cliff hanger, huh?  
> Yeah, this is the longest chapter, and my first time writing a fight scene, so please let me know if you guys could follow what was happening.  
> Like before, roast me if you spot a typo


	7. A Night in the Medbay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Tubbo spend a night in the Medbay  
> Wilbur makes a choice.

On Tuesday the 22, October 2015, at precisely 11:00 pm, Tommy Anderson and Tubbo Smith stared in awe at the sight before them. The box they had been trapped in was not a box, it was something much more. 

“Tubbo,” Tommy asked, breathing heavily, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Yeah,” Tubbo responded. “I think so.”

Beyond them, a small bridge lined with rails led to a center octagon, where what Tommy assumed was a control panel. The panel was silver and covered in switches, buttons, and levers. On top of the control panel, a long tube jutted into the air, with tv placed on a rotator. The tube had lines of a silver liquid running through it, which connected into a shape that reminded Tommy of a whale's tail. Above the aforementioned tail hovered three yellow crystals, bobbing up and down ever so slightly. The walls of the room were black and covered in small dots, similar to what Tommy recognized as braille. Zig-Zag shaped beams shot from the floor below into the ceiling, lined with white stripes of light. 

Tubbo and Tommy walked forward, running their hands along the rail, before stepping onto the central octagon floor, examining the panel. A series of monitors made up the first area of the console, followed by a lever that had a large red ball at the end of it. Tubbo focused his attention on the small portable tv connected to the tube. Taking hold of its handles, he extended it forward, in an attempt to see what was on it. The tv showed a set of circles, with lines emitting from it. Unable to decipher what it meant, Tubbo moved it back to its original position.

“Hey Tubbo,” Tommy yelled from the other side of the control panel. Tubbo turned to look at him. “Do you think I should press this button?”

Tubbo thought back to the words of the man who’d locked them in here. “I’m pretty sure the guy told us not to touch anything, so, no!” Tommy pouted and muttered to himself, but took his hands off of the panel 

The boys were startled by the sound of someone yelling, and turned to look back at the door. “What was that?” Tommy asked.

They soon had their answer, as seconds later, the door slammed open, and the strange man ran in, clutching a bundle in his hands. “Hey, what's going on?!” Tommy yelled. The strange man knelt down and leaned the bundle against the rail, before running along the railway onto the central octagon, turning right and running down the path and vanishing. “What is that…” Tommy asked hesitantly, trailing off. Tubbo stepped forward, taking a closer look at it. Realization dawned on him when he spotted the familiar shade of blue.

“It's George,” he whispered in shock. 

+++

“Is he going to make it out of this?” Tubbo asked quietly. The three were sitting in one of the rooms located within the massive box. Across from them, George lay asleep, bandages and an oxygen mask covering most of his face. 

After George was brought onto the box, Tubbo and Tommy had rushed over to him, attempting to wake him up. The babysitter was covered in blood, and as they had shaken him, his blood began to soak their hands. The stranger returned, taking George into his arms. Tubbo and Tommy protested, but the man ignored them, walking towards the other side of the ship. The boys followed him into a room that resembled a surgery room that Tubbo had seen on TV. The man placed George onto bed, and placed a mask over his head.

Tommy protested initially, attempting to protect his friend, but the man quickly reassured him that if he didn’t intervene now, George wouldn’t survive. With no other options, the boys left the room, not wanting to see what the man was going to do. 

Approximately 7 minutes later, the man beckoned them back into the room, where they sat down. The man explained that George had been badly wounded, with severe damage to his intestines and lungs. Through his efforts and the ‘power of hydrodime,’ the man had been able to heal him enough so that he could be put into a coma, before he could attend to the injuries on his head and back. 

With a sigh, the stranger rose from his seat. “My name is Wilbur, pleasure to meet you.” He said, extending his hand in greeting. Tommy took his hand first.

“I’m Tommy.” He muttered, letting his hand fall down quickly. Wilbur turned to Tubbo, hand outstretched

“I’m Tubbo.” He said, shaking the others hand. “Is George going to be okay?” Wilbur looked back at the man on the bed. 

“He will be.” He said. 

“How long do you think he’ll be like, that?” Tommy asked hesitantly. Wilbur paused for a moment before speaking.

“While his injuries were pretty severe, the hydrodime will help heal him at a faster rate. I suspect he’ll be back to normal in...” he counted on his hand. “Three to four business days, given the current rate of exchange.” Tommy let out a moan. 

“What am I gonna tell my mum?” He exclaimed. “She’ll kill me when she sees the mess we’ve made.” 

“I’ll think of something, don’t worry. Pull out the ol’ Soot charm” Wilbur said, sitting back down on his chair and adjusting his jacket. 

Tommy wore a disgusted look on his face. “Please do not flirt with my mother.

Wilbur ignored the child's response. “For now, I’m allowing you guys to stay with me. There's still two of the Marcorx running amuck, and I can’t have you getting hurt.”

“What's a Marcorx?” Tubbo asked. 

“They’re those things that attacked you. The Marcorx are some of the most territorial creatures in the universe. They’re constantly on the move, trying to find a ‘perfect home.’ Now typically, they travel by themselves, but three, in one group. It's extremely rare to even see two of them together, let alone three.” Wilbur trailed off.

“Why did they attack us?” Tommy asked, scooching his chair closer to Tubbos.

“Well, it's difficult to say.” Wilbur began. “In order to find their ‘perfect home,’ a Marcorx will need to find a living being of enough energy to steal.”

“So they’re vampires?” Tubbo interjected. Wilbur considered his statement for a moment, before continuing. 

“In a way, I suppose so.” A silence began to fill the room. The sound of George's heart rate monitor beeping intermittently, becoming the indication of a passage in time. 

“How did you know how to save us?” Tommy asked quietly, turning to look at Wilbur. The man looked down. 

“I had an inkling that something was going to happen. My Tardis has a sensor on it that can track explosions of alien energy across the planet, and while it isn’t always the most accurate, it led me here.”

“What about George?” Tubbo interjected. “You act like you’ve met him before, but he's never mentioned you”

Wilbur let out a small chuckle. “I met him this morning. I decided to pop into a local school for a spell, see if I could find any evidence of alien activity. Imagine my surprise when this random bloke runs into my class, yelling about a monster chasing him.”

“Wait,” Tommy exclaimed, voice raising, “This wasn’t the first time this happened?”

Wilbur shook his head, “Nope, based off his language, this is probably the third time this has happened today. 

In the next moments, Tubbo became aware of three things. The first being Tommy’s angry screaming at Wilbur for failing to prevent the attack from happening. The second being Wilbur's attempt at a refute being overshadowed by Tommy's continued swearing. And the third being the shuffling noises coming from Georges bed, as heart rate monitor began speeding up

+++

“George?” Tubbo whispered quietly.

Wilbur turned at the sound, spotting the boy in green making his way towards the man's bed. George's body had begun to shake, and he could hear small groans of pain coming from him. Stepping away from Tommy, he told the child to shut up, which caused Tommy to let out a gasp of shock. Wilbur then checked George's heart rate monitor, which had begun to speed up. 

“George,” he said, breaking the momentary silence that had filled the room. “George, are you with us?” He placed his right hand on the man's shoulder, nudging it in an attempt to wake him up. George's eyes remained closed, but his body began to shake more violently than before. His heart rate monitor grew louder.

“George, you have to wake up!” Tubbo exclaimed, reaching over and shaking the man's shoulders. By now, Wilbur noted how his eyeballs were moving frantically back and forth underneath his eyelids, and how he had begun sweating a terrible deal. Wilbur moved away from Georges bedside, racking his brain for a plan, ‘I can’t let him die like this.’ He thought to himself. ‘I just got started, I can’t lose someone so soon, not like last time.’ As he attempted to think of any helpful action, his eyes landed on the medical table a few feet away. The table was covered in a variety of silver instruments, but what drew Wilburs attention the most was the panacea, a yellow cylinder shaped like an epi pen. 

The panacea was an item of great value, known throughout the galaxy as one of the most powerful healing treatments in existence. Several lifetimes ago, Wilbur had been sent on a quest to retrieve the item from the acidic caves of Zarlint, in order to save the dying queen. He hadn’t been quick enough, and after the queens death, he had been banned from the star system she had ruled. Wilbur had kept the instrument, as a reminder of his failure. 

Wilbur looked back towards George's heart rate monitor. The device was beeping frantically, but the main cause of concern came from the Gallifreyan spindles glitching across its screen. In a language the children could not understand, they spelled out a grim prediction. Unless he intervened with the panacea, George's body would burn up from within, and he would be dead within a matter of minutes. ‘Is he worth saving?’ The question bounced around in his mind. Afterall, George was merely a human, insignificant to the vastness of the universe. Wilbur had no way of knowing which galaxies or planets he could save from destruction with such a device. 

‘But,’ a voice echoed through his head, ‘He could be more than anyone could expect. Even the most insignificant being could alter the universe in incredible ways. He said he knew you, but you’ve just gotten started. Isn’t it worth discovering how?’

Making his decision, Wilbur leapt forward and grabbed the panacea, ripping the cap off of it. “Get out of the way.” He said, rolling up his sleeves.”

“What are you doing?” Tommy exclaimed, moving to stand in front of George, Tubbo joining his side. 

“I’m trying to save his life!” Wilbur responded. The heart rate monitors beeping increased. 

“What is that?” Tommy asked, pointing at the panacea.

“Its an epi-pen!” Wilbur lied.

“George doesn’t have an epi-pen.” 

“Tommy-”

“Tommy, please stop. Just let him save George” Tubbo shouted, grabbing his friend's arm. Tommy stared at him in shock, before relenting, allowing for the man to pass. Wilbur took a hold of Georges forearm, shook the panacea several times, before stabbing it into Georges arm. The panacea made a sharp clicking noise, before letting out a small ping. Wilbur removed the device from George's arm and placed the device into a nearby trash bin. George's body began to cease its rapid movement, and with a deep sigh, returned back to its previous lax state. 

The heart rate monitors quiet beeping became the only noise filling the room.

After several minutes, a shuffling could be heard from Georges bed again, causing the three to stand up and cautiously approached the man. For a moment, they remained silent, before a low moan was emitted from George

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, squinting at the light. “Wilbur?” He asked in confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, our first change in perspective.   
> Not gonna lie, I do not know how to write children, so if the boys seem very mature, you know why.  
> For anyone who's following this series on Tumblr, I'm back on the original sideblog @thatonedoctorwhoau. We had some technical difficulties these last few days, but everything should be back to normal now.   
> As always, roast me if you see a typo.


	8. Realizations and Friendly Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George gets updated on current events

On Wednesday the 23, October 2015, at precisely 12:05 am, George Ashworth opened his eyes to the sounds of Tommy's scream of “He’s alive!” before two smaller bodies were thrown against him. George let out a groan of pain as the boys landed on his injured stomach. Reaching over with his right hand, he grabbed his oxygen mask and pulled it off of his face. 

“Hi,” he muttered painfully, “Tommy, Tubbo can you,” he let out a sharp breath, “Can you please get off of me?”

“Oh, right.” Tommy muttered, getting off of him. “Tubbo, you heard the man, get off ‘im.” Tubbo quietly apologized and rolled off of him, but quietly took hold of Georges hand. “Man,” Tommy began, “You almost scared me half to death.”

“Yea,” Wilbur cut in. “How are you feeling George?”

George paused for a moment. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He admitted. Wilbur barked out in laughter. 

“That's a good way of putting it.” George grimaced, and pulled himself into a sitting position, staring around the room. 

“Where are we?” He asked. “Because I don’t think a hospital is supposed to look like,” He gestured around the room. “This.” 

Wilbur adjusted the collar of his shirt, looking slightly enthused. “Do you remember the blue box?” When George nodded, he continued. “Well, it's a lot less, snug, then it looks.” 

George racked his brain, attempting to conjure up events from the attack. “Wait,” he paused, “I remember I said, ‘it's bigger on the inside.’ Are we actually still in the box?!” Wilbur nodded. “Holy shi-” He cut himself off, not wanting to swear in front of the children. 

“Bit mad, innit?” Tommy said, grinning. 

“You could say that again. “

+++

“Mind telling me what is going on exactly?” George asked. The four were in the main console room, Wilbur at the controls, Tommy and Tubbo leaning against one of the rails, and George sitting on a small bench, as not to further exaggerate his wounds. “Because I still don’t know what happened today, and I feel an explanation is in order.”

Wilbur paused at his request, and began pressing buttons on the main control panel. The structure let out a whine, causing the room to shake, before coming to a halt. “I’ve explained this to Tommy and Tubbo here already,” Wilbur began. “Those things that’ve been coming after you are called the Marcorx. They hail from a planet 5 universes away.”

“That doesn’t come as much of a surprise to me.” George remarked. “I mean aliens, it's not a hard story to believe. Why are they here in Brighton?”

“They’re hunting.”

“Hunting for what exactly.”

“The Marcorx are one of the best hunters in the galaxy. They have incredible senses, and can find any being, no matter how far. Distance means nothing to them, as they will dedicate their lives to hunting their prey down.”

As George listened, the wheels in his brain began turning. “When you say they hunt, I should assume it's a living being, right?” Wilbur nodded. “Then, considering I’ve had three run-ins with them in one day, I am probably their target, right?” Wilbur's silence served as his answer. “Why me?!” He cried. “Why are these things targeting me?!”

“I don’t know.” WIlbur replied. “Marcorx typically travel by themselves, so I don’t understand why three of them would team up to get you.”

“That's not exactly reassuring!” George yelled.

“I suppose it isn’t.” Wilbur muttered, placing a hand under his chin pensively. George let out a groan. “Look, it's been a long day for you three. And I think it's probably for the best if you guys stayed here tonight. We don’t exactly know when those things will be back. Tommy, Tubbo, follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

“What about me?” George asked, leaning forward slightly.

Wilbur glanced back at him. “You can stay here for now, I’d like to discuss tonight's events one on one.”

“What about us?” Tommy exclaimed. “We’ve got stuff to say!”

“You met the Marcorx once. George met them three times in one day. Whatever input you have is inconsequential to me.” Tommy pouted, crossing his arms. “Now, it's time to go to bed. Please follow me.”

“You can’t tell us what to do! You’re not the boss of us!” Tommy retorted.

“No, but I am.” George responded.

“George-”

“Bed, now!” With a moan, Tommy relented. Wilbur sent George a small smile, before leading the boys out of the main room and down the stairs. George sat in silence for several minutes, before footsteps began to echo through the room. Turning, George spotted Wilbur climbing up the stairs, drinks in hand. 

“I figured you might want something to drink.” He handed the drink over. It was a shimmering midnight blue and George took a sip. It tasted odd, causing him to make a face, but slowly, George began to taste something else. 

“It tastes like,” He paused for a moment, considering what to say next. “Like tortellini with pesto, with a salad on the side.”

“What type of salad?”

“Caesar.”

Wilbur chuckled. “It's always a Caesar salad.” He sat down beside George

“Wilbur, today has been very strange.”

“Indeed.” Wilbur took another sip of his drink. 

“And considering where we are, what happened to me, whatever,” He gestured to his drink, “this is, I have to ask: you aren’t exactly human, are you?” Wilbur stared at him, a smile creeping across his face. 

“You figured that out quick.” 

George raised his eyebrows. “I mean, it's not that hard to believe. I seriously doubt any human could build a box that spans for miles.” The two sat in silence, looking up at the central pipe. George noted how the yellow crystals slowly bobbed up and down. “So, if you’re not human, then what are you?”

Wilbur glanced at him briefly, before looking down. His eyes seemed to glaze over, as if he were deep in thought. George noted how rigid his body became. Letting out a deep sigh, Wilbur began. “I come from a planet by the name of Gallifrey, located in a binary star system 250 million light years away. It's a shimmering red planet, home to the Time Lords, the smartest individuals in the universe.”

“Well, clearly not, considering you exist.” George grinned, taking another sip of his drink. A smile grazed Wilbur's face. 

“Yeah, a smart bunch they were. Course, they’re all gone now.” There was a distinct sadness in his eyes, a loss of great magnitude. 

“What happened to them?”

Wilbur took a deep sigh, and looked up at the console. “There was a war, a great war that threatened to end all existence.” He paused, as if contemplating what to say next. “In order to save all universes, I had to kill them. Every last one of them. I’m the only one left.”

George remained silent, unsure of what to say. How can you comfort a man who has lost everything? 

“But that's all in the past.” Wilbur spoke quickly, attempting to alleviate the mood. “We aren’t here to talk about me, we’re here to talk about you.”

“Wilbur, are you alright?” George questioned softly, placing his drink on the ground. 

“I’m fine.”

“It's just, I think that you should probably-”

“I don’t need to talk about Gallifrey's destruction any longer.” Wilbur cut in, raising his voice, “I’ve had 1800 years to deal with it. I’m fine.”

“Okay.” The two fell into an awkward silence, neither party willing to address the tension in the room. Quietly, George leaned over and rested his head on Wilbur's shoulder. Wilbur froze up for a moment, but made no objection. 

“The Marcorx are hunters,” Wilbur began. “Typically, they travel by themselves, surviving off of the energy a living being produces. Every few hundred years, they find a living being with enough energy and hunt them down, before harvesting them.” 

“And I’ve got three of them after me.”

“Two now.”

“Oh, that's right, Tommy killed one of them.” George muttered to himself. The previous hours events were still somewhat hazy. 

“That he did.” Wilbur replied, chuckling to himself, before growing silent once more. “Look, I don’t know what it is about you that makes these things want to go after you so badly, but trust me when I say, I promise to make sure that these things never hurt you again.” 

George remained silent, before lifting up his head to look the other in the eyes, his hand brushing against Wilbur's. 

“Is that a promise?” 

“Promise.” Neither made any comments about the way their hands had intertwined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys can have some ambiguously flirting Wilbur and George content. As a treat.  
> Any way, the next few chapters are going to be a bit shorter mainly because they're more dialogue heavy.   
> And as always, roast me if see a typo


	9. Morning Schemes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur fails at making breakfast and the group hatches a plan

On Wednesday the 23, October 2019, at precisely 7:15 am, George Ashworth fell out of his bed after the entire room jolted suddenly. With a groan, he pulled himself off of the floor, mindful of the injuries to his stomach. He made his way out of the bedroom and towards where he remembered the control room being. After several small turn arounds, including one where he almost walked into an Olympic size swimming pool, he reached his destination. 

“Wilbur,” He called, “Where are the children?”

“Right here!” George turned around several times, before looking upwards. Leaning down from the balcony was the Time Lord, waving a piece of toast in his hands in an attempt to beckon him forward. “Tommy and Tubbo are up with me.” 

Looking around, George spotted the nearest set of stairs and began walking towards them. He made his way up the balcony, where he spotted the two boys seated at a table with many fancy looking platters adorning it. “Is this breakfast?” 

“Yep.” Tubbo responded. “Wilbur made us eggs, along with whatever this is.” He pointed over to a small dish covered in what George assumed to be fish covered in Jell-O. “Wil says it's got all the food groups in it, but I don’t want to try it. Tommy did though.” George looked over to the other boy, whose face had turned a nasty shade of green. “Yeah, he didn’t like it much.”

“I can tell.” George pulled up a chair, and sat at the empty plate. Looking around the table, he grabbed a spoonful of scrambled eggs and several slices of toast. “So,” he said, biting into the bread, “What's the game plan for today?” The three looked at him in surprise. “Don’t look at me like that, we’ve gotta get rid of these things, don’t we?”

Wilbur sat down at the table, and placed a scoop of the jello-fish hybrid onto his plate. “Well, me and the boys were discussing what the next course of action should be.” George nodded, chewing his food. “And, considering the state you’re in, we thought it might be better for you to stay in the Tardis. For your own safety.”

George looked up at Wilbur, who quickly avoided eye contact. “Do you really think that you can hunt these creatures down without my help? For Christ's sake, these things are after me, not you lot.”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt again.” Tubbo interjected. “George, you almost died yesterday. I don’t want you to die this time.”

George reached a hand over and placed it on the boy's shoulder. “Tubbo, it's sweet that you care about me, but this is the only action that makes sense. These things are trying to kill me, wouldn’t it be smarter to lure them out then to hunt them down. Like Wilbur said, they’ll go to the ends of the universe to track down their prey. Why not have the home field advantage?”

“He has a point.” Tommy muttered, head hanging under the table. 

“Tommy are you alright, do you need a bucket?”

“No!” He exclaimed, before groaning. Despite sitting several feet away from him, George could hear the rumbling in his stomach. “Okay, I lied, I need a bucket.”

“Wilbur, where's your nearest bucket?”

“Already on it.” 

+++

“So, to refresh your memory, what's the plan again?” 

“George is going to walk around the Capaldi Park by himself, with us trailing at least 10 meters behind.” 

“Excellent work Tubbo. Tommy, next part?”

“When the monsters appear, George will run back to the Tardis, where we’ll use the sonic tool you’ve got in your jacket.”

“Spot on, George, what comes afterwards?”

“The boys will take out the knives you’ve been so generous to give them and stab the things.”

“Excellent work lads. We’re ready.” 

+++

“Flying eagle to George, over.”

“Tommy, I’m not calling you that.”

“Calling me what, over.” 

“The stupid bird.”

“The stupid bird what, over.”

“Are you being annoying on purpose?”

“No, over.”

“Will the two of you shut it?” Wilbur's voice echoed in George's ear loudly, causing him to flinch. “This line is for serious communications only.”

“You forgot to say over, over.”

George heard a deep sigh come from Wilbur's end. “Tommy, if the Marcorx doesn’t kill you first, I will.” 

“And he's threatening a child. What a man you’ve picked out George, over.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, small child.” Wilbur began, “But know that I will not hesitate to dunk you into the pond 50 meters to your left.” 

The group was walking around Capaldi Park. The fall season had painted the park in multiple shades of orange and yellow. Walking in front of the others, George had plenty of opportunity to marvel at the scenery. It felt almost picturesque, even with the thoughts of his potential death resting heavily on his mind. 

After Wilbur's attempt at breakfast came to an end, George had cornered the Time Lord in the kitchen, and made it clear in multiple forms that should their plan go awry, he was under strict conditions to protect the children over him. Wilbur had protested heavily, saying that he wasn’t willing to abandon George in his hour of need, but George asserted his authority over him.

After several minutes of intense arguing, Wilbur had relented, but made it explicitly clear that he would not abandon George until there was no possible way that both George and the kids could survive. George agreed to these terms, assuring Wilbur that he would rather die knowing those he cared about were safe than live knowing he’d hurt them in any way. With that, the two men returned to the control room and Wilbur began explaining his plan, before starting the Tardis. 

Taking his mind off of the events to come, George allowed himself to tune back into the conversation happening on coms. Wilbur and Tommy were still arguing, and every once in a while, he could hear Tubbo attempt to get a word in edgewise. He chuckled to himself, picturing what the group was doing. 

His momentary calm was eradicated when a familiar voice echoed through his head. 

Looking around, George spotted two figures dressed in black sitting on a bench 50 meters away. In unison, they turned their heads to look at him and even at such a distance, George could feel their smiles on him. 

“Guys,” He said, “They’re here.”

“You mean they’re here, over, over.”

“Tommy, shut the fuck up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, I give you my attempt at comedy, tomorrow, who knows?  
> So there's a typo near the end, where George hears the Marcorx, that for some reason, just won't appear when I try to post it. Lets hope it doesn't happen again next chapter.   
> Also, I'm letting y'all know that I'm nearing the end of my prewritten content, so if I miss a couple daily posts, you know why.   
> And as always, please roast me if you spot a typo


	10. Things Go Sideways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team makes their final stand

On Wednesday the 23, October 2015, at precisely 9:05 am, George Ashworth came to a stop, as the Marcorx slowly got off of the bench and began walking towards him. Watching the two come closer, George observed how with every passing step, their bodies began to shake. Slowly, the humanoid shapes began to stretch, extending themselves upwards. Their arms became skinnier, the flesh drooping, before correcting itself into paper thin wings. Their fingers grew narrow and thin, and their downturned hats rolled into the back of their heads. Worst of all were their faces: their thin mouths curved upwards violently at the slits of their mouths. Their heads contracted and extended at the same, their teeth erupting violently into the light. George felt unwell, and slowed down his pace, in an attempt to rationalize what he was seeing. 

The wind had begun picking up, causing large swaths of leaves to fill the air. Storm clouds had begun to roll in. George pressed a hand to his earpiece. “Wilbur, I’m ready.”

He was met with static. “Wilbur, are you there?” The static tone only increased. “Tommy, Tubbo, is anybody there?” He turned his head around to look back at his friends. The three had frozen in place, unmoving. “What’s going on?!” He screamed; his friends remained static

The beasts began approaching him at a faster rate. George increased his pace, before fully turning around and running towards his friends. “For the love of god move!” As he approached them, he stopped and reached over to shake Tommy. 

To his horror, his hand passed right through him and with a flicker, he disappeared. George cried out in terror, before attempting to touch the others. Like Tommy, they disappeared beneath his finger tips. Realization dawned upon him: he was on his own.

+++

“George, George, don’t move until we say so.” Wilbur said, leaning into his earpiece. Meters in front of him, the human had frozen at the sight of the Marcorx transformation. While he was at a considerable distance, Wilbur could still see how horrific it was. “George,” he spoke again, attempting to gain the man's attention. 

George frantically turned around, his eyes scanning and screamed out “What's going on?!”

“You need to run now.” George continued to stare in terror, before turning back to face the monsters.

“Why isn’t he running?” Tubbo exclaimed. “George, run!” 

George turned on his heels and began approaching them rapidly. The group prepared their respective objects: Wilbur pulled a small silver box with buttons and a screen out of his jacket pocket, while Tubbo and Tommy each pulled a blue knife out of their pockets. Wilbur pulled out his key, signaling the Tardis to open its doors in time to let George in.

The door remained shut. Wilbur pressed it again, hoping it had been an accident, but the door refused to open. As horror dawned on him, George arrived, but deviated from the plan; stopping and attempting to touch Tommy, before his fingers passed right through him.

“What the shit!” Tommy exclaimed, watching as George attempted to touch Tubbo and Tommy with the same results. “Wilbur, what's happening?!”

“I don’t know, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The Marcorx can manipulate reality, but not this much, not enough to keep the Tardis shut.” George began running towards the Tardis, slamming into it before pulling on its handle. 

“Please,” he screamed. “Please let me in.” The Marcorx passed Wilbur, and George barely moved out of the way before they crashed into the Tardis. He sprinted down the path, with the Marcorx screeching behind him.

“Wil,” Tubbo said, staring. “What are we going to do?”

“Improvise.”

+++

George ran as fast as he possibly could, hearing the nightmarish noises trailing behind him. The yellow park was all but abandoned, and overhead, storm clouds had gathered up again. George considered whether or not the rain that began pouring was a tactic used by the Marcorx, as it had been present at every encounter he’d had with them. As he felt the tips of the Marcorx’s claws brush his skin, he ducked down and began running into the more densely forested area of the park, forcing the Marcorx to double back. 

Upon entering the more wooded area, George immediately began searching for a hiding spot. The terrain was a lot more uneven, and the ground slanted downhill extremely quickly. George attempted to keep his footing as he raced along the terrain, but his foot soon got caught in a small ditch, causing him to fall into a larger pile of leaves. Gasping from the pain building in his ankle, George hobbled out of the pile as quietly as possible, before positioning his body within a dead tree in an attempt to hide himself. George's heart was racing, and he placed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to quiet his heavy breathing. Out in the woods, he could hear the Marcorx flapping their wings, making shrill noises as their means of communication. Through a hole in the tree, George could see the beasts making their way past the pile of leaves he’d fallen into. The Marcorx angled their faces upwards, as if sniffing the air. 

The voice in his head whispered again, louder than before.

The Marcorx lunged at a nearby tree, ripping into it, before stopping. 

‘They’re going to destroy everything until they find mine.’ George thought. The Marcorx confirmed his suspicions, approaching another dead tree and ripping it apart. 

The Marcorx approached his tree slowly, making those noises once again. Realization dawned on George: He wasn’t making it out of these woods alive. There was nothing he could do now. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the end

(One) 

‘At least Tommy and Tubbo are safe.’

(Two) 

The beasts readied themselves to attack.

“THREE!” 

A loud screeching noise filled the air. 

+++

Wilbur’s mind began working in overdrive, attempting to formulate a plan to save the human as he and the children began following their friend. “Wilbur,” Tommy yelled, running alongside him. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

“I’m working on it!” He replied, pulling his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and placing it between his teeth.” He began pressing the buttons on the silver box, repeatedly slapping the device in an attempt to get it to work. Ahead of them, George ducked down, before sprinting off of the path and into the woods. 

“Wilbur, what do we do?” Tubbo yelled, stopping as the Marcorx dove into the tree line. 

“Like I said,” He muttered through his teeth, “Working on it!”

“Well work on it faster!” Wilbur grabbed the sonic screwdriver from his mouth and began scanning it against the silver device. It made a ringing noise, before Wilbur placed it back into his pocket. He pressed several buttons, attempting to get the device to work, before slapping it several times, stopping only when a soft ping was emitted. 

“Now we’re in business!” He exclaimed. The three of them ran into the woods, attempting to find a trace of their friends' location. Silence filled the air, as they strained their ears, attempting to hear any sounds indicating which way George had gone. 

Up ahead, the sound of something heavy falling to the ground broke silence filling the air. Pressing a finger to his lips, Wilbur grabbed the two boys and indicated towards a clearing slightly to the left of them. The three quietly made their way forward. 

Another heavy object was heard smashing to the floor. Wilbur and the boys scrambled, ducking behind a fallen log and poking their heads up. The Marcorx were closing in on a tree stump, where Wilbur could only assume George was hiding. 

(One)The Marcorx screeched. Wilbur began to stand up. 

(Two) He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and pressed it against the device. 

“THREE!” He yelled, and pressed the button on the sonic screwdriver. A sharp ringing noise, not unlike the one he’d used the previous night to ward the Marcorx off, was emitted, sending the beasts screaming to the floor as they shifted in and out of their monster form. “Tommy, Tubbo, go!”

The boys jumped forward and sprinted down the hill, pulling their knives out of their pockets. As they reached the first monster, they stabbed the beast repeatedly, black blood splattering across their bodies. The half human half Marcorx attempted to get up, but it's constant shifting made it difficult to move, allowing the boys to land several key blows. After several moments, the Marcorx let out a groan, before growing still, its body returning to its original form. 

The sound of crunching leaves alerted the boys to movement, and they jumped up, prepared for a fight. They were met with the sight of George emerging from the tree, hands covering his ears. “George!” They yelled, running over to him and wrapping their arms around him. From behind them, the ringing noise quieted down, and Wilbur made his way down the hill, approaching the final Marcorx, who laid still, glitching ever so slightly.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Wilbur exclaimed, reaching the beast. “I’ll let you go right now. I’ll let you live a long and violent life, scouring the universe for your next meal, on the condition that you never lay a finger on my friend again. Now,” He leaned his head over the Marcorx face, “Do we have a deal?”

With a screech, the Marcorx lunged forward, its jaw open. George and the boys flinched, but Wilbur just turned the dial on the box to raise the volume of the ringing. He stepped towards the boys. “Tommy, can I have your knife?” Tommy handed the knife to him, and Wilbur turned back to the beast. George raised his hands to cover the boys’ eyes as he plunged the knife into the Marcorx's face. After several swings, the alien was dead. 

Wilbur turned back to the boys and turned the box off. The group stared in silence for a few seconds. “Well,” he began, “Time for lunch. I’m starved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy my shitty attempt at a fight scene.  
> Well, we're almost done! One chapter to go!  
> I'll try to host a reader vote on the future of this series, so y'all can choose which story gets written first.  
> And as always, please roast me if you spot a typo


	11. Graduation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur asks the group an important question

On Wednesday the 23, October 2015, at precisely 12:25 pm, George Ashworth listened to Tommy brightly exclaiming “So the Tardis can travel through time as well?!” George made a shushing notion, in an attempt to quiet the child down, but Tommy ignored him. “Oh my god, we can go back in time to King Arthur, Tubbo!”

“I would advise against that.” Wilbur replied. “I kinda messed up one of his battles the last time I saw him, so he decreed that I’m to be beheaded on site if I’m ever seen in Camelot again.” Tommy and Tubbo looked up at him in shock.

“What did you do?” Tubbo asked. 

Wilbur stared ahead blankly. “You don’t want to know.”

The group was sitting in a cafe with a view directly onto Notre Dame. Wilbur had decided that after the group's success today, they deserved a high quality lunch. They’d boarded the Tardis and landed in Paris, the box tucked neatly between two buildings. When they arrived at the restaurant, the hostess asked for their reservation, to which Wilbur pulled out his wallet and flashed what appeared to be a blank piece of paper. The hostess let out a gasp, before leading the group up the stairs and onto the balcony, where a fancy table was already set. When George asked how they’d gotten in, Wilbur explained how psychic paper tells anyone what they want to see. Tommy and Tubbo immediately asked to hold it, but Wilbur refused, saying their children hands would get it dirty. 

Lunch was spectacular. The boys had split a pizza between them, and George had ordered a plate of shrimp scampi. The highlight of the meal was dessert, when Tommy ordered a Tarte aux pralines, and bit into it without realizing the food's contents and spitting it into Wilbur's face. Wilbur's face remained controlled, as he wiped the pralines off of his face, his eye twitching ever so slightly. 

After their meal, the group made small talk, staring at the magnificent cathedral before them. The sun shone down onto the spires, creating the illusion of movement. It was beautiful.

“George,” Wilbur began. George turned to look at the Time Lord, who was looking down onto his lap. “Tommy, Tubbo, I have a question to ask you.”

“Spit it out.” Tommy replied.

Wilbur let out a sigh. “As you might already know, I’ve been on my own for a while. Now, I’ve travelled alone before, but I’m a new man. Freshly regenerated, and still trying to figure out who I am.” He looked up. “These past few days, what am I saying, hours, have been wonderful. Truly wonderful, and it reminded me of why I love travelling the universe. So, if it isn’t a bother, I was wondering if you’d like to join me in my travels. For as long as you want.”

“Of course,” He interrupted himself. “There will be dangers. And many of them. The Marcorx are scary, but they’re nothing compared to some of the beings out there. You have no idea how crazy it gets out there. But it's also beautiful. So very beautiful, and worth exploring. And I want the three of you to see that.”

The three stared at him in shock, attempting to come up with a response. Sensing the others were unable to formulate an answer, George decided to speak on their behalf.

“Wilbur,” He said calmly, reaching over to take the Time Lords hands. “This is a really generous offer, and while we greatly appreciate it, I,” He glanced over at the boys, “I don’t think any of us are ready to commit to such a choice quite yet. I’m not sure that two 10-year-olds are ready to handle the vastness of space at such a young age.”

“Yes we can!” Tommy retorted. “Tubbo, tell him.” Tubbo nodded in response. 

“Tommy, you aren’t even done with 5th grade yet. Do you really think you can deal with being in danger every moment of your life?” He paused, waiting for the boys to respond. “I thought not.”

Wilbur slid his hands out of Georges. “So it's a no then.”

“No!” Tubbo exclaimed. “We still want to go with you! It's just that-”

“That none of us are ready.” George interjected. “Tommy and Tubbo need to finish school, I need to graduate from university. We still have a life outside of what happened today, and we can’t give that up right now. At the end of the day, we are still people.” 

“And that's not to say that we don’t want to, but we’re just not ready, not yet.” Tubbo said

“Maybe, when we’re at a place in our lives where we can balance the stress of our daily life with the extremes of travelling through the universe, we’ll be ready. But until then, we can’t ”

“When do you think you’ll be ready?” Wilbur asked hopefully. 

George thought for a moment. “I think you’ll know when.”

+++

On Friday the 14, June 2019, at precisely 4:57 pm, George Ashworth cheered as the principal of Deffray Vale announced the graduating class of 2019. The students walked down the central aisle and into the audience, eagerly awaiting their families. George allowed the two to speak with their families, before approaching them.

“Congratulations boys!” He said, pulling the boys into a hug. 

“Lets fucking go!” Tommy exclaimed, pumping his arms in the air. “We’re finally free!”

“Hey,” George interjected. “You’re not free yet! You’ve still got grade 9 ahead of you!” The boys groaned, causing George to laugh. 

“I can’t believe it's actually happening.” Tubbo said. “I mean, we’re really leaving Deffray. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Me neither.” Tommy responded. 

“It’s all becoming so real.”

“Chin up you two!” George said. “It's not going to be so bad!”

“Says you!” Tommy retorted. “You never got into a fistfight with another student.”

“True, but at least I can make it through a school year without getting into a verbal confrontation with a substitute teacher.” Tommy gasped in shock, before crossing his arms, feigning anger. George laughed, and pulled the two closer. 

The three paused when they heard what sounded like whirring. Glancing upwards, their eyes scanned through the crowd of students and adults. 

“George, did you hear that too?” Tubbo asked. George nodded. 

Turning around, George spotted a familiar blue box tucked behind a set of portable classrooms out on the main field. The door on the box opened, and a man dressed in yellow stepped out. 

“He’s here.” Tommy whispered. The three excused themselves from the celebration, and slowly made their way through the crowd, passing the gates, and, sprinting as soon as they escaped the mass of bodies. They stopped several feet away from the Tardis. Wilbur looked, for the most part, exactly the same as when they’d left him four years ago. Meanwhile Tommy and Tubbo had both hit their growth spurts and the bags under George’s eyes had only increased. 

“Pleasure seeing the three of you again.” Wilbur said, breaking the silence between them.

“Seems you still look like a twat!” Tommy retorted. Wilbur stared at him blankly, before a smile broke out on his face. 

“Well, get on over here!” He exclaimed. The three ran forward and enveloped Wilbur into a bone crushing hug. “Aughh.” He moaned. “Too tight, too tight!” 

“Sorry,” Tubbo muttered, letting go of the Time Lord.

“That’s one hell of a grip you’ve got there!” Wilbur said, cracking his back. “Blimey, when’d you two get so tall?”

“Wouldn't you like to know, Time boy?” Tommy retorted 

Wilbur let out a laugh. “Whelp, shall we get started?” 

“Fuck yeah!” Tommy exclaimed, and he grabbed Tubbo by the arm and ran inside, with George and Wilbur following close behind. The Tardis looked relatively similar to what George remembered it being, with the only major difference being that a softer yellow light reflected across its walls. The group approached the console and Wilbur pressed several buttons, before placing his hand on the central lever. 

“So, all of time and space; everywhere and anywhere; every star that ever was.” He paused, looking up at the group. “ Where do you want to start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're at the end! Thank you so much to everyone for sticking with me through my rambling attempt at a story! Its been so much fun working on this story and getting to interact with all of you. 
> 
> Also, I'm hosting a poll for you guys to choose the future of this story, so go check it out here: https://www.strawpoll.me/21003955
> 
> I'm probably gonna start writing this story over the weekend, but updates will be slower.
> 
> Also, if anyone wants to ask me anything about this story, please come yell at me on @thatonedoctorwhoau on Tumblr. I'm always willing to discuss my work at any time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone, this is the first fic I've ever published, so please be nice. 
> 
> Anyway, what are your thoughts so far? Please sound off, I wanna know what you guys think. 
> 
> I'm still in the process of writing this, so any feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Please roast me if you find any typos
> 
> Also of course, I must thank the fantastic @dtvibez on tumblr for creating this au. Go send her some love.
> 
> Uh, hope to see you soon. I'll figure out an upload schedule eventually


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